The Next Great Adventure
by lahmrh
Summary: K/S. Spock Prime dies, but that's only the beginning.


**The Next Great Adventure**

He's dying.

Spock wonders vaguely if he should be upset about that, but he can't summon the energy to care. It isn't as if it comes as a surprise, after all; he has been steadily weakening for some time now – enough that a simple virus has become life-threatening. He knew when he came to the hospital that there was a good chance he would never leave.

His head and chest and side all ache, and even breathing seems an effort. He spends most of the time resting now, too tired to keep his eyes open. The doctors have made him as comfortable as they are able, but he has refused their offers of pain relief – he does not wish to spend his last hours in a drug-induced haze.

Sarek comes to see him once, to say goodbye, but it is scarcely a comfort. It doesn't matter how similar they are, the man standing beside him is _not _his father – _his_ father is dead and has been for decades. The Sarek and Spock of this reality have a relationship that he could never have dreamed of with his own father, drawn together as they have been by an almost unimaginable loss. He hopes that they will continue to support each other, and avoid the arguments and misunderstandings that kept him and his father apart until it was too late.

Sarek asks if there is anyone else he would like to say goodbye to. He considers it, but the only person he might want to see is hundreds of lightyears away. He shakes his head, and requests only to be left alone.

His eyes drift shut as Sarek leaves; even their brief conversation has been exhausting. It is becoming harder to breathe now, and when he feels his heartbeat grow erratic he knows it won't be long.

He doesn't remember much about last time, but he does remember the pain of leaving his family, his friends, his t'hy'la. This time he won't be leaving them, he'll be joining them again, and he welcomes it. He has been alone for so very long, and this world no longer needs him. He is ready to leave.

There's a crushing pain in his side, and the world slips away.

x x x

Spock comes to slowly.

The pain and exhaustion are gone, and he opens his eyes to find that he is no longer in the hospital. He sits up – something he has not been able to do unaided in days – and looks around. He recognises his surroundings as the captain's quarters of the _Enterprise_ – the _original_ _Enterprise_, post refit. The quarters that he lived in unofficially for five years before they officially became his.

Frowning, he slips a hand down to his side, over his heart. Nothing. That answers one question, at least, although this is not exactly how he would have pictured the afterlife.

He stands up and walks over to the mirror. The face that looks back at him is not young – perhaps mid-forties – but it is younger than he has been for a very long time. His hair is black, and he is wearing a Starfleet uniform – the unpopular grey one of the mid 2270's.

He touches the mirror gently. It isn't a mystery why his subconscious has brought him here – if he were asked to choose the time in his life when he was happiest, this is what he would pick.

There's only one thing missing.

"Admiring the view?" asks an amused voice from behind him.

Spock spins around, and two seconds later is in Jim's arms. He buries his face in Jim's shoulder and tightens his grip, trying to convince himself that Jim isn't going to disappear, that the solid form in his arms is _real_.

"You're lucky I don't still need to breathe," Jim tells him, but he's holding on just as tightly.

"I missed you," Spock mumbles. "I tried not to, but I couldn't stop."

He feels a hand come up to stroke his hair and leans into it, closing his eyes and slowly relaxing his grip. "I missed you too," Jim says softly. "I watched you, sometimes, but it wasn't the same."

Spock pulls away enough to look at him. Like Spock, Jim is younger – young enough that he could be mistaken for his counterpart if not for the eyes, clear hazel and shining with love.

"Jim," Spock whispers.

"None other," Jim replies with a smile. "I feel like I should offer my condolences, but to be honest I've been waiting for you to get here."

"Where is 'here'?" Spock asks, curious.

Jim shrugs. "Wherever you want it to be. It's like the Nexus, except not as lonely." He frowns. "I thought I was back there until Bones found me. That's what convinced me – the Nexus couldn't duplicate real people."

Spock raises his eyebrows. "Doctor McCoy is here?" McCoy's loss was not as painful as Jim's, but it would be good to see him again.

"What, you thought it was just the two of us?" Jim asks. "Yeah, he's around somewhere, along with a lot of other people." He grins and adds, "He's still annoyed you outlived him."

"Vulcan lifespans-" Spock begins, but Jim holds up a hand to stop him.

"Don't start. You can have that argument with him." He tilts his head and adds softly, "Do you want to see him?"

Spock considers it, but finds himself disinclined to share Jim's attention at present. "Yes," he says finally, "but later." Stepping closer, he slips his arms around Jim's waist. "First we should finish becoming reacquainted." With that he leans down and kisses Jim.

It's been almost a century since their last kiss, but as their lips meet it feels like no time at all. Spock doesn't know how long they stand there, oblivious to anything but each other, but when they finally break apart he wants nothing more than to lean in again.

Jim looks equally dazed, but recovers quickly. "Yes," he says with a slow smile, "I like that plan." In an instant all their clothes have disappeared, and Jim is pushing him towards the bed.

"You will have to teach me how to do that," Spock says, raising an eyebrow.

"Later," Jim promises, as he presses Spock down onto the mattress.

Spock pulls him closer, not inclined to argue. Within moments he is lost in sensation, in the feeling of finally being reunited with his t'hy'la.

Later, he thinks, he'll tell Jim about the other universe, the other version of him with the strange blue eyes. But not now. There'll be plenty of time later to talk and learn and explore.

After all, they have all the time in the world.


End file.
